Garrett: Why isn’t this just grand, Cally? Some needed time off, a low-calorie domestic beer in my hand, and sport for our entertainment. Right here in our own fine home, we didn’t even have to bother with the Greyhound Terminal of the Skies, the Dallas-Ft.Worth airport.

Callahan: You mean this O’Douls actually has some alcohol in it? Where’s Muffin, by the way?

Garrett: You know full well where Muffin is, Cally. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you two have been texting all through the offseason about wine, despite the fact I’ve taken back call duties around here. Her displeasure with me has to have come up at least once during your spirited debate over prosecco versus moscato.

Callahan: Can’t say that it has. We usually stick to wine and book club.

Garrett: Ever since Tony talked me into wearing a matching Duke shirt with him as a funny ruse last month, she’s made me sing “Old Nassau” once before bedtime. If we may be men for a second Cally, this is a terrible development. We usually sing it twice a night, once for each of our Princeton degrees, to help us get the amorous blood flowing.

I envision that during half-time, Jerry has his cronies find four people in the crowd, have them brought to his suite, gives all of them blunt objects, and told to fight for freedom and wealth. The winner gets charged for murder by Jerry himself and everyone laughs at the foolish peasants.

So of course Florio wrote a post at PFT stating that people in North Texas had no right to boo the Double J, because he brought JerrahWorld to the people of North Texas so that they could watch live sports.

FLORIO, YOU DICK. How much money did the Double J put towards the stadium? How much, you fucking chode?

Jerrah didn’t bring the stadium to the people of North Texas, they brought the stadium to him. They should have the right to go to Jerrah’s house and boo him in his living room while he’s trying to watch Matlock.